"Beautiful, isn't it?" the old woman said. Eddie followed her eyes.
There was something about her, as if he'd seen her photograph
somewhere.
"Are you... my third person?"
"I am at that," she said.
Eddie rubbed his head. Who was this woman? At least with the Blue
Man, at least with the Captain, he had some recollection of their place in
his life. Why a stranger? Why now? Eddie had once hoped death would
mean a reunion with those who went before him. He had attended so
many funerals, polishing his black dress shoes, finding his hat, standing
in a cemetery with the same despairing question: Why are they gone
and I'm still here? His mother. His brother. His aunts and uncles. His
buddy Noel. Marguerite. "One day," the priest would say, "we will all be
together in the Kingdom of Heaven."
Where were they, then, if this was heaven? Eddie studied this strange
older woman. He felt more alone than ever.
"Can I see Earth?" he whispered.
She shook her head no.
"Can I talk to God?"
"You can always do that."
He hesitated before asking the next question.
"Can I go back?"
She squinted. "Back?"
"Yeah, back," Eddie said. "To my life. To that last day. Is there
something I can do? Can I promise to be good? Can I promise to go to
church all the time? Something?"
"Why?" She seemed amused.
"Why?" Eddie repeated. He swiped at the snow that had no cold, with
the bare hand that felt no moisture. "Why? Because this place don't
make no sense to me. Because I don't feel like no angel, if that's what
I'm supposed to feel like. Because I don't feel like I got it all figured out.
I can't even remember my own death. I can't remember the accident. All
I remember are these two little hands—this little girl I was trying to
save, see? I was pulling her out of the way and I must've grabbed her
hands and that's when I.. ."
He shrugged.
"Died?" the old woman said, smiling. "Passed away? Moved on? Met
your Maker?"